Fables of Cybertron
by MadnessJones
Summary: What could be better than classic fairy tales? Why, fairy tales with Transformers of course! The citizens of Cybertron have gotten together to put on a series of plays depicting classic fables from their world, which are surprisingly similar to stories from our own world. Prepare to laugh, cry, and wonder what we were thinking as you read these enthralling tales!
1. Prologue

Prologue

Welcome, one and all, to the Polyhex Playhouse! Tonight you will see whimsical tales from the annals of Cybertronian history. Beautiful princesses, evil monsters, heroic Primes; we have it all. Prepare to laugh, cry, and sit on the edge of your seat as our actors reenact tales to delight, frighten, and teach the younglings of our great world.

Please don't forget to read your program to see which actors have been cast for each performance. We would also appreciate those with musical or cellular alt modes to please mute themselves so that everyone can hear the program without interruption. Also, to the Decepticon with the license plate WLDRYDR, you are doubled parked. Please return to your original seat and stop displaying yourself across two chairs in the minibot section.

Now, with announcements concluded, sit back and relax while the first performance of the evening begins. Thank you for choosing the Polyhex Playhouse, and enjoy the show :)


	2. Handsome and Trouble

Chapter 1

Handsome and Trouble

(_Hansel and Gretel)_

_Handsome: Sunstreaker_

_Trouble: Sideswipe_

_Parents: Perceptor & Windblade_

_Old Seeker: Starscream_

* * *

Once upon a time in a cottage near the Sea of Rust lived a poor solar panel farmer, his new wife, and his two young sons; Handsome and Trouble.

The farmer's wife was most displeased with her new life. She was married to a mech that lived in the middle of nowhere, his two sons were brats that she didn't want to raise, and to top everything off his solar panels were failing to provide for them due to him building his house in a place that frequently suffered from sun-blocking rust storms. This led to a fuel shortage for the family, which led to much resentment on her part.

"Whatever are we going to do, husband?" The wife asked as she looked around their shabby home, "We cannot support four people on your meager harvest! There is barely enough for the two of us!"

"But what am I, a simple laborer, to do?" The farmer asked dramatically, "I cannot control the sun, my dear."

"Apparently you can't control your kids, either!" The wife then pointed at the stairs, where Trouble was hanging upside down from the railing and swinging his arms from side to side.

"He's making the best of our ghastly situation, wife," The farmer replied defensively, "I know times are hard, but I'm sure we'll survive."

"No, we won't. Not like this," The wife insisted, "If we continue on this way then all four of us will die. There is only one thing left to do. Trouble, go tend the solar panels on the west side of the house. I think I saw the sun peeking out from the rusty clouds."

"Oh boy! Sun!" Trouble exclaimed as he ran outside; his thundering footsteps shaking the foundation of their poorly constructed house.

"I'm glad you've gotten back into the harvesting spirit," The farmer smiled.

"No, husband. I sent him out of the room because of what we need to discuss," The wife replied gravely, "I've tried to make a good home here despite the willfulness of your younglings, but times are too hard now. If we are to survive, then we have to get rid of the children."

"Get rid of them!?" The farmer asked in horror, "You want me to kill my own sons?"

"Not kill them, _get rid of them_," The wife corrected, "We lead them far away from our cottage, and if they are strong they will fend for themselves. Then what little energon you produce can actually do some good for the two of us."

"Oh, must it really come to this?" The farmer wailed in grief, "To never again see Handsome's drawings decorating our walls? To never again hear Trouble's infectious laugh? Is there truly no other way?"

"I believe you already know the answer to that," The wife replied solemnly, "If it makes you feel better, I will be the one to lead them away."

And so it was that the next orn Handsome and Trouble were led out into the desert wasteland by their stepmother. She told them that their father would soon join them for a picnic, but Handsome got suspicious when he saw his father crying as they left. Besides, he knew there was no energon for a picnic. It had to be a trap.

Figuring out that their parents were trying to abandon them, Handsome hid some pebbles in his subspace and said nothing to either Trouble or his stepmother as he surreptitiously scattered them along the ground to make a trail.

When they made it to a small canyon the stepmother exclaimed "I think I see your father! Run along to the bottom of the canyon, and we'll be down shortly."

The boys then walked down the canyon's ledge, but before they made it to the bottom Handsome put his hand on Trouble's shoulder to stop him from going any further.

"Okay brother, let's go home now," Handsome ordered.

"Home? But what about our picnic?" Trouble whined.

"There's no food, dummy! How could there be a picnic with no food?" Handsome pointed out, "That wicked femme is trying to leave us here. We must return home at once."

"But I wasn't paying attention to where we were going," Trouble lamented, "How are we supposed to find our way home?"

"Fear not Trouble, for I have made us a path," Handsome replied conspiratorially.

The brothers then walked back up to the top of the canyon, and sure enough, the pebbles were still in place. They would have to hurry before the strong winds came and blew all the pebbles away. With this in mind, the young mechs transformed into sports cars and drove all the way home.

* * *

Several orns later fuel was still scarce, and the sun had not returned to give the poor farmer its nourishment. Everyone was suffering, and it was under this mindset that the stepmother tried once again to lead the boys into the desert to be rid of them. Handsome was wise to her tricks by now though, so he gathered some flakes of steel from his father's workshop to use as a trail to guide their way home.

The stepmother took a different route just in case the boys had memorized the first one. Handsome and Trouble were quiet this time, with even Trouble understanding that they were now considered a burden to be dumped by their hateful stepmother.

This time instead of a canyon the stepmother led them to a collection of large pieces of jagged steel that grew up from the ground. The ominous steel forest seemed to go on forever, and the sky somehow seemed even darker here than it was at their home. It was a terrifying place, especially for younglings.

"Your father and I set up camp in the forest," Their stepmother lied, "Go on ahead, and I'll catch up with you."

With those words their stepmother flew away using her jet alt mode, and the boys started walking into the forest so that she would think they bought her lie. As if either twin was that foolish.

"Did you leave another trail?" Trouble asked Handsome worriedly.

"Of course, dear brother," Handsome replied, "I collected flakes of steel dust from Father's workshop and scattered them along our path. Now we must hurry before the wind blows away our trail."

The boys then went to the edge of the forest, following the trail of steel all the way. After a few minutes however they discovered something horrifying...scraplets. Scraplets had shown up and were eating the steel flakes! Their trail was gone, and now the scraplets had spotted them and bared their deadly mech-eating teeth!

"_RUN_!" Both brothers screamed in unison.

The twins then ran further into the steel forest, hoping the natural metal growths would help them lose the scraplets. The buzzing of the ferocious scraplets rang in their audials, forcing their pedes to move faster and faster! The sound of the swarm grew fainter as one by one the scraplets latched onto the jagged spikes of metal and began to feast.

It took several breems, but eventually the boys made it out of the forest and every scraplet had ceased following them. Once they made it back to flat barren ground the twins heaved in deep intakes of air as they tried to gather their bearings.

"Well...I guess that means we won't be home for dinner," Trouble said half-jokingly.

"There was no dinner," Handsome sighed bitterly, "We're alone, brother. They abandoned us. If we try to go back we'll be eaten by scraplets. Face it, the only way we can go is ahead."

"But there's no natural energon in the desert!" Trouble exclaimed frantically, "We have no solar panels, no oil, no energon...no anything! We're gonna starve!"

"Calm down, Trouble! Complaining won't solve our problem. No, we just have to keep moving and hope we find some other place to live. Maybe another solar panel farm where we can work as laborers, or maybe we could herd sheepicrons."

Trouble groaned miserably, but knew his brother was right. If they were to survive, then they would have to make new lives for themselves. With no other options, the twins started walking into the vast horizon with no destination in mind and no means to take care of themselves.

* * *

For two orns the boys walked, and their energy reserves were practically nonexistent. Their frames began to grow rust, their movements became slower, and their blue optics grew dim. There seemed to be no end to their suffering.

Just as the complete darkness of the night gave way to the almost-darkness of the morning, Handsome saw something strange in the distance.

"Trouble, look!"

It was a house, but not just any house. It was a little cottage made entirely out of energon! There were light blue energon treats used as tiles for the roof, bright high grade for the door, purple energon for the frame of the house, and even the glass on the windows was the material used for energon cubes. It was amazing!

"This cannot be real..." Handsome gasped in amazement, "Do you think it's a mirage?"

"Mirage? He's in this play?" 'Trouble' asked idiotically.

"_Shut up, Sideswipe_!" 'Handsome' whispered harshly to his brother.

Overjoyed at seeing actual energon in such great supply, the twins ran for the building and started tearing large chunks out of it and eating with relish. There was liquid energon in the river by the house, and Trouble started slurping the rushing water greedily. Handsome had both servos full of solid energon, which he ate as he moaned in delight. The boys were so happy. Most of the energon was refined with flavors, something their poor family could have never provided for them.

The boys were so engrossed in their spontaneous meal, that they didn't even notice the mech coming out of the house until they heard a shrill voice playfully quip "Nibble nibble, young glitch mouse. Who is nibbling at my house?"

The boys stopped what they were doing immediately. Trouble popped his helm out of the river, and Handsome stopped mid-chew to slowly turn his head to the stranger. A large seeker was standing at the door of the energon cottage, and he was looking at them with kindly blue optics and a warm inviting smile.

"Oh, go on. I don't mind," The old mech said reassuringly, "I can tell you boys have traveled a long way. You must have, for no one lives near me. Why, it's been _so long _since I've had visitors. Could you come closer please? I'm afraid my optical output isn't what it used to be."

The boys approached the mech warily, and were surprised when he reached his servos out to feel their faces.

"Hey, watch it!" Handsome snapped.

"My apologies, younglings," The old mech replied, "Like I said, I don't see well. My, my, your armor feels so oxidized. You must have gone a long time without fuel. I can understand how that feels. Why don't you come inside, and you can have some energon that _isn't_ load bearing. Hee hee hee! My perpetual energon machine can feed a family of mechs for a lifetime."

Smiling at each other, the brothers followed the seeker inside; unable to believe their luck. If they played their cards right, maybe they could get this kindly stranger to adopt them or give them work, and then their problems would be over.

The seeker invited them to sit at the table, where two large cubes of high grade had already been prepared. Handsome immediately went to grab a cube for himself, but Trouble turned to the seeker and asked "Um, are you sure we can have this? We're only younglings, and this is high grade energon."

"Well who's going to stop you? Your parents?" The old mech asked pointedly.

"Well..." Trouble didn't exactly know how to refute that argument, so he joined Handsome in drinking the energon.

Trouble immediately began to feel weird after drinking from his cube. He could tell from looking at Handsome that the same thing was happening to him. Before either cube was even halfway finished, both brothers simultaneously passed out, and the seeker laughed in wicked glee as he rubbed his hands together.

"Mistakes one made cannot be undone, and now I'll smelt you in my cauldron! Hee hee hee!"

* * *

Trouble awoke with a massive headache. He rubbed his helm and stood up. Looking around, he saw the same glowing energon walls as before, and remembered where he was. Funny, he didn't remember falling into recharge...

"Trouble! Are you okay?" He heard his brother Handsome shout.

"Sure, I'm fine. I'm-" Before Trouble could take even a step however, his leg was stopped.

He looked down, now fully awake, and realized that his pede had been shackled to the floor! He frantically looked around, and also saw that Handsome was trapped in a small cage with a bucket full of energon goodies.

"Brother, what happened?" Trouble asked in a panic.

"Trouble, it's the seekers, he's-!"

"He's _what_?"

Both brothers turned to the front door as the seeker came back in. Trouble couldn't believe what he was looking at. The once kindly old seeker now had large serrated teeth, and he now had claws that looked like knives protruding from his servos. His optics had also turned a bright vicious red.

"He's a scraplet-former!" Handsome shouted accusingly at the old seeker, "He's not a real mech! He's going to eat us!"

"What!?" Trouble exclaimed incredulously.

"That's right, little mouse. You are both now my prisoners...and my prey. Hee hee hee!" The old mech laughed maliciously, "You should be thankful Trouble, for I am going to let you outlive your gluttonous brother. You shall be my slave and keep my house tidy. The house you tried to _eat_, if you'll recall."

"So you were mad about that?" Trouble inquired innocently.

"Silence!" The scraplet-former screeched, "You will help me feed your worthless brother until his frame becomes lustrous and healthy. Once my little mouse is of high enough quality, I shall feast on his frame! If you step out of line, then I shall eat you as well."

Trouble gulped, and then looked over at his brother, who glared defiantly at the alleged seeker. Trouble sighed, realizing he was helpless to do anything against such a terrifying and powerful foe. He would have to do the creature's bidding, all the while trying to figure out a way to save his twin brother's life.

* * *

Deca-orns passed in the scraplet-former's home. Trouble was forced to sweep floors, dust the furniture, and tend the energon machine so that parts of the house could be quickly replaced and Handsome could be frequently fed. Trouble was barely given anything to eat, and when he complained the seeker would beat him until he cried out for reprieve at the top of his vocalizer.

Though Trouble was battered, he wasn't broken. The seeker was practically blind, and the only way he could tell if Handsome's frame was pure enough to smelt or not was to feel of his arm. Trouble saw this routine, so one orn while the seeker was tending his garden the red twin gave his brother a rusty pipe about the circumference of his arm.

"I don't think this'll hold up long enough for me to beat the scraplet-former with it," Handsome observed.

"No," Trouble whispered urgently, "When the seeker asks to feel of your armor, shove this through the bars. He won't know the difference, and it'll buy us some time."

The seeker could be heard returning in that moment, so Handsome hid the pipe behind him and slipped an energon treat in his brother's servo to keep his strength up. They knew they would need their wits about them to defeat this powerful older mech.

Just as expected, the seeker demanded to feel Handsome's arm. Handsome did as his brother had told him and held out the pipe.

"Strange. If anything you feel rustier than before," The seeker commented, "I'd better increase the amount of energon you consume. I need you to get healthy quickly, for I have not eaten a live mech in a long time, and I have so craved a morsel that fights back. Hee hee hee!"

And so it went. For three more deca-orns the seeker fed Handsome extra energon, and Handsome would smuggle that energon to Trouble so that he would not starve. Every time the seeker asked to feel Handsome's arm he would give him the pipe instead, and it continued to fool the seeker. After three deca-orns of these shenanigans however, the scraplet-former had had enough.

"Trouble! Get over here now!" The scraplet-former bellowed, "Turn on my cauldron so that it may get hot. I'm tired of waiting. Healthy or rusty, I _will_ eat that golden glutton!"

Trouble gulped, and then turned to his brother, who sat in his cage looking at them with a listless glare. Handsome knew they could do nothing now, but Trouble wasn't about to give up so easily. There had to be a way to defeat the scraplet-former and save his brother.

Trouble went over to the cauldron, an automatic smelting device with a lid that latched at the top, and imagined his poor brother being melted down alive inside that awful thing. He had to do something! Wait a klik...melted alive. That was it!

"Excuse me, sir," Trouble addressed the seeker, "How does this thing work? I've never used a cauldron before."

"You turn the knob all the way up, and it gets hot. That's literally it. There's only one button!" The seeker chastised the red mechling.

Trouble fiddled with the knob and got the cauldron hot, but then stuck his servo over it and said "Excuse me, sir, but the cauldron is still cold. Is it supposed to still be cold? And are there supposed to be wires sparking out of the bottom?"

"_Sparking_?" The seeker exclaimed, "What the frag did you do to my cauldron!?"

The seeker then ran over to inspect the damage, but when he leaned in to check on it, Trouble shoved him inside and slammed the lid shut! The seeker rammed against the heavy smelter to try to force himself free, but it was locked up tight as a drum. After a couple breems, the scraplet-former's struggles ceased. He would trouble innocent mechs no more.

Trouble wasted no time and went to the cage to free Handsome, but then realized something...

"Um...Where's the key?" Trouble inquired.

"The seeker had it," Handsome replied dryly.

"Oh. Oops..." Trouble replied sheepishly. "Now what? I still have a chain on my leg and you're still locked in a cage. What do we do now?"

"What else? Grab some energon plaster and dig in," Handsome replied with a shrug of indifference.

So together the brothers started eating the energon cottage, both still locked up but at least free of the scraplet-former. The house was theirs now, as was the device that made energon out of thin air. They could both live like this for a while, at least until they figured out how to break their bonds. So they both lived piggishly ever after.

**The End**

* * *

_Author's Notes: I know this idea is different from my standard fare, but inspiration struck and I had to pursue it. This is a way to give you complete stories as well as a fanfic that updates. The best of both worlds. Now that I've done Hansel and Gretel, which fable should be adapted by the Transformers next? Let me know :)_


	3. The Music Mech of Helex

Welcome back to the Polyhex Playhouse. Tonight's tale is an urban legend that comes to us all the way from the pre-Golden Era past. It is a tale of betrayal and loss, as passed down from a people who suffered from one of the greatest blights known to Cybertronian kind; cosmic rust.

This reenactment features an all-inclusive cast of Decepticons and Autobots. The funds for this play were generously donated by Thundercracker, The Helexian Center of Cultural Studies, **Cashagon**, and Mudflap's Aft Cream. If your aft is feeling rusty, then turn to Mudflap's: the number one trusted brand for your most sensitive of needs. Now, without further ado, we present to you...

* * *

Chapter 2

The Music Mech of Helex  
(_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_)

_Music Mech: Soundwave_

_Mayor: Swindle_

_Mayor's Assistant: Gears_

_Annoying Kid: Wheelie_

* * *

Once upon a time in the city of Helex there was a problem. A massive problem. A problem that swarmed and afflicted the citizens and drove everyone crazy. That problem was turbo rats.

There were turbo rats in the streets. Turbo rats in the energon warehouses. Turbo rats in people's closets and garages. It was nearly impossible to drive on the road due to all of the disgusting disease-carrying turbo rats going about their business and impeding traffic. Sometimes they would even end up in the mechs' and femmes' passenger seats!

Everyone in Helex was miserable and afraid. The turbo rats ate up their energon and caused the citizens to fear that the tiny beasts would give them cosmic rust. They blamed everything for the plague, from an angry Unicron to acid rain to the mayor's former assistant, who was swiftly thrown out of town.

"Hey, stop pokin' me with those spears!" Rattrap yelled as he ran from the mob, "How many times I gotta tell ya? I ain't a turbo rat! I just look like one!"

Unfortunately even chasing away the mayor's assistant didn't solve the problem, and the rats continued to invade the town.

"Such a shame," The mayor lamented from his office, "That guy sure knew how to make a cup of warm energon. Say, new assistant, we got any ideas for how to deal with this rat problem?"

"How the pit should I know?" The new assistant replied grumpily, "I'm just a temp. This time next deca-orn I'll be as far away from this death trap of a city-state as possible."

"Come on! There's gotta be something we can do!" The mayor exclaimed more insistently, "My aft is on the line! Those angry villagers will rip me a new one if we don't figure out how to rid our little hamlet of those stupid varmits."

"Alright, alright, I'll check the pest control database," The assistant relented; muttering under his breath about his boss the entire time.

And so it was that mechs from far and wide came to the mayor and proposed their ideas for disposing of the turbo rats.

A seeker trine believed making the town stink would rid them of the turbo rats, but that plan backfired when the smell attracted even more. Now the town was rat infested _and_ smelly. The seekers were swiftly kicked out of town, which they didn't mind since Helex now smelled like a landfill.

The second exterminator tried using lasers to kill the turbo rats, but that only served to damage several homes; not making a dent in the rat population. Not to mention all the holes in people's houses meant the turbo rats could get in and out more easily.

The fifteenth mech suggested tiny cages everywhere but...

"Too expensive," The mayor dismissed the fifteenth guy, "I'm already offering a handsome reward to the mech that kills the rats. I can't afford all those cages! What am I, made of credits?"

And so it was that one by one the potential exterminators were sent away. The mayor sat in his chair and sighed, fearing the town would be forced to suffer this rat problem forever. Then one day, a new mech came to town.

When the mayor's assistant showed the new mech in the mayor wasn't exactly impressed by what he saw. This mech was quiet and painted a dull dark blue and white color. His red visor gave away nothing of his temperment, and neither did his face mask. He also transformed into a music player; not exactly a form that screams 'killer'.

"So, what stupid trap do you propose for this little infestation?" The mayor asked condescendingly; not believing this mech could help him where so many others had failed.

"Designation: Music Mech. Operation: Turbo Rat Removal. Timeframe: 5 joors. Payment of 10,000 shanix is demanded upon removal of turbo rats."

"_10,000 shanix_?" The mayor almost choked on those words, "Um, that's pretty pricey. I've had better offers come in through the pipeline, if you know what I mean."

"Guarantee: All turbo rats will be removed," The Music Mech assured the mayor; his voice a strangely filtered monotone, "Payment will be made upon removal of turbo rats."

"So...you can get rid of every last rat? I mean _every last one_?" The mayor asked for clarification.

"Correct," Music Mech replied.

"Well, if you can really do it..." The mayor wheedled, "I mean, we are pretty desperate and all. Oh, alright. If you can keep up your end of the bargain, then I'll pay up. But all the rats have to be gone. Got it?"

"Acknowledged," Music Mech replied dutifully.

* * *

The next morning the mayor looked out his window to see that Music Mech was already strolling into town. He wasn't carrying anything, which the mayor found odd. The citizens had heard of the boastful mech that promised them relief from the rats, so there was a small crowd gathered to watch the mech exterminate the vermin. Many wondered what amazing trick he could possibly have in his subspace.

Music Mech looked around, observing the turbo rats. This took several moments, and many began to wonder if he had been bluffing. Then he hit a button on his arm, and suddenly jaunty music was wafting forth from his loudspeakers. He turned up his own volume, and the rats' helms all perked up at the sound. One by one, and then soon by bunches, the rats began to approach the mech. Music Mech had their attention now, so he began to back away; drawing the rats closer.

With the rats in tow Music Mech made his way out of the city gates. An entire swarm of turbo rats followed in Music Mech's wake like a long living shadow. It was eerie, it was awesome, and it was the relief the townspeople had been waiting for.

Over a joor later Music Mech returned, this time with no turbo rats following him, and the crowd cheered for their hero. Music Mech took their praise in stride, neither encouraging nor discouraging their celebration. He didn't care about that. This was business, and there was still the matter of his payment.

When Music Mech went to the mayor to claim his money however, he was greeted with a rather unwelcome response.

"I'm not giving you one credit!" The mayor harrumphed, "I ordered an exterminator, not a DJ! All you did was play music. That ain't a good enough reason to give you 10,000 shanix."

"Designation: Music Mech. What did you expect?" Music Mech asked in his creepy monotone voice.

"I expected more!" The mayor replied crossly, "All you did was drive the rats away! What if they come back, huh? What if you didn't kill them? I didn't see you kill them, now did I?"

"Turbo rats: gone forever," Music Mech replied ominously, "Music Mech will prove that methods are effective. Mark my words: Helex _will_ pay the Music Mech."

With those words Music Mech left the mayor, and the mayor smirked in triumph. No way was this loony going to strong-arm a government official. The mayor wasn't going to give that creep one credit. Little did he realize in that moment however that there is more than one way to pay.

* * *

Early the next morning, the sparklings and minicons were playing outside; finally able to escape their dreary houses now that the turbo rats were gone. The streets were once again filled with the laughter of younglings at play.

As the sparklings kicked their cans down the street and minicons played lob ball, suddenly they could hear the faint sound of music in the air. It was a beautiful harmonious tune, the kind that immediately draws the audial of the listener. The sparklings stopped what they were doing and listened. The minicons followed suit, and soon both groups of tiny Cybertronians were following the sound of the sweet melody.

"That music sounds great! Wheelie cannot wait!" One sparkling said with excitement.

"Get lost, twerp!" One of the minicons yelled at him, "You ain't invited to this party!"

With that the minicons pushed the annoying orange sparkling into a ditch, where he could only watch helplessly as the others were lured away toward the sound of the music. He watched as they met up with the mysterious Music Mech, and he watched as they followed him into the Ironside Mountains; where Predacons were rumored to live.

A couple joors later the adults awoke to find that their children and symbiotes were missing. Some wondered if they were just playing beyond the city gates, but the orange child that had been left behind was able to tell them a different tale.

"They went off with Music Mech. On a cool adventurous trek. They followed his song up the mountain trail. Entranced they were by his audial veil. Wheelie wanted to go as well, but instead they pushed me and I fell. Now Wheelie glad I didn't go. They're gone forever, this much I know."

The parents and hosts were horrified by what they were hearing. The mayor had been the one to not pay the Music Mech his due, so off to the mayor's office the angry mob went; ready to smelt him at the stake.

"Wait, smelt me at the stake?" The mayor exclaimed from his office, "That wasn't in the original story. Who wrote this script? Gears, was it you? I see you snickering backstage! I know you did this! _Gears_!"

With that the mob crashed into the mayor's office, and he transformed into his jeep alt mode and drove away stage left with the mob driving away behind him. The moral of the story, mechs and femmes, is to always pay what you owe. Because one way or another, the Music Mech collects his debts.

**The End**


	4. Red Rider

This play is based off one of Cybertron's oldest and most enduring stories: Red Rider. This production is being directed by Springer, and features a cast of mostly newcomers to the stage. Funds for this production have been generously donated by The Rubbernecker Oil Refinery, **Heart of The Demons, Guest, **and Tocko Bell Curve Bombs and Energon. When you feel like eating _and_ exploding, choose Tocko Bell Curve. And now, on with the show :)

* * *

Chapter 3

Red Rider

(_Little Red Riding Hood_)

_Red Rider: Firestar_

_Mother: Elita One_

_Grandsire: Alpha Trion_

_Cyberwolf: Ravage_

_Huntsmech: Hound_

* * *

Once upon a time there was a lovely young femme who went by the name of Red Rider. She was designated such because of her vibrant red paint and her truck alt mode, which could carry much cargo for a femme her size.

One orn her mother received a transmission from her grandsire. He had fallen ill and was not able to visit them, so Red Rider wanted to do something special to make him feel better. With this in mind, Red Rider and her mother worked together to fill a basket with high grade energon and a get well card for the old mech. Red Rider also volunteered to be the one to deliver the basket to her grandsire.

"Be careful while traveling through the crystal forest," Her mother warned, "It is a place of great beauty, but there is also much danger. Be on your guard."

"I will, Mother," Red Rider assured her.

"Stay on the thru-traffic path, and do not stray into the unpaved forest," Her mother advised.

"Of course, Mother. I know what I'm doing," Red Rider replied confidently.

With these words of caution in mind Red Rider transformed into her alt mode, waited for her mother to secure the basket of energon into her truck bed, and then took off toward the crystal forest where her grandsire lived.

As the young femme drove languidly down the back road deep in the forest, there was a Cyberwolf that noticed the sound of her engine and smelled the fresh energon in her frame. He smacked his lips in anticipation, knowing that this naive creature would be easy prey. He ran further down the path and laid down in the road, knowing she would have to stop, and then he would take the moment to strike.

Red Rider meanwhile was casually driving along the path when she suddenly noticed an animal lying on the road. The creature was black, and looked to be a cassette-former. She worried it might be a Cyberwolf, but it was hurt and helpless, so she had to do something for the poor creature.

She went over to where the injured beast's prone form was, and when the creature opened its optics it froze under her scrutiny.

"_Scrap_," The Cyberwolf whispered to itself, "_She's a lot bigger in person_."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Red Rider wailed sympathetically, "Drink some of this energon. I cannot spare much because I am delivering it to my grandsire, but I hope it will help you get well."

"Your grandsire, you say?" The Cyberwolf purred, "Tell me, is it very far to your grandsire's house from here? It would be such a shame if you got lost in this forest all alone."

"Oh, it's not far," Red Rider replied; oblivious to the danger she was in, "Just beyond the great crystals of the forest, and past the jagged steel barriers. His house sits under a cliff beside a great cavern. It's really quite beautiful."

"You want to see beauty, dear femmeling? Why, it is right here!" The Cyberwolf exclaimed, "This forest is full of many mysteries and wonders. Crystals that change colors, petro rabbits that will eat right out of your hand, and so many more miracles await you along the unpaved yonder."

"Mother says not to wander into the forest," Red Rider told him, "She says it is very dangerous."

"I've lived in the forest my entire life, and nothing bad has ever happened to me," The Cyberwolf pointed out, "Besides, it's a shorter path to the great cavern where you grandsire lives. Isn't a shortcut with great wonders worth your time, my dear?"

"Well...when you put it like that..."

With those words Red Rider transformed back into truck mode and drove off into the unpaved forest, ready for an adventure.

The Cyberwolf meanwhile was mentally congratulating himself on coming up with such a cunning plan on the fly. The forest was not a shortcut, but in fact would take longer than the thru-way. The Cyberwolf would use the time he bought to incapacitate the grandsire, and then lie in wait for Red Rider. Then when her guard was down he would attack her and eat her up. It was a perfect plan.

* * *

A couple joors later the Cyberwolf made it to Grandsire's house. It was a quaint cottage, but there was a lot of junk in the front yard. The Cyberwolf had to be careful where he stepped, since some of the rubbish was rusted and leaking.

"This set wasn't in the script," Ravage noted, "Seriously, Alpha Trion? You've only been here for ten minutes and you somehow managed to hoard this much junk?!"

"Stop breaking character!" The director shouted off-stage.

"I will when the Autobots' resident pack rat starts behaving like a professional!" Ravage griped.

"_One moment, ladies and gentlemechs_," The director whispered to the audience.

[**Technical Difficulties**]

*_Ahem_*. Anyway, The Cyberwolf stalked into Grandsire's house, now free of debris. His paws were as quiet as the night while he searched the house for the grandsire. He searched the kitchen, the living room, and the waste disposal room. Nothing. Then, finally, the Cyberwolf went into the bedroom and...

"Wait!" The director shouted, "Where's the Grandsire?"

"Alpha Trion left," Someone shouted backstage, "He said Ravage hurt his feelings."

"Oh, come on!" The director shouted in frustration.

[**Technical Difficulties**]

The Cyberwolf went into the bedroom, and there lay the grandsire, definitely _not_ sulking like a sparkling. The Cyberwolf carefully approached the old mech, but then his paw tapped against a loose sheet of metal and caused a light clanking sound. This did not go unnoticed.

"Who's there?" The grandsire asked in alarm, "Oh no! It's the big bad cyberbully!'

"Cyber_wolf_!" The Cyberwolf barked defensively, "Prepare to be eaten alive, old mech!"

"Good luck, tiny!" The grandsire taunted.

The director facepalmed. This was not in the script, but at this point he was too exhausted to call Alpha Trion out on his primadonna behavior. Next time he was casting Ironhide.

* * *

Red Rider had spent more time than she meant to in the forest. There was no road, so she got lost rather easily. Nonetheless she made it to her grandsire's house, and she couldn't wait to show him the photos she had taken of the oil river, the crystal blooms, and this adorable petro rabbit she had seen.

She strolled up to the house with the cube of energon and other gifts for her grandsire. She knocked on the door, and a very shaky voice invited her in. She entered the house and walked straight to the bedroom where her grandsire was recovering from his illness. What she saw took her a bit by surprise.

"Why Grandsire, how short you have gotten!" Red Rider exclaimed.

"All because of my sickness, my dear," The 'grandsire' explained.

Of course this was actually the Cyberwolf. He had eaten the grandsire, all except his mustache and beard, which he was currently wearing to disguise himself and fool the femme. Once she was completely relaxed around him, he would attack.

"You certainly have changed since I last saw you, Grandsire," Red Rider commented, "Why, what red optics you have!"

"All the better to see in infra-red, my dear," The Cyberwolf replied.

"And Grandsire, what big audials you have!"

"All the better to hear you insult me, you brat," The Cyberwolf replied in offense.

"My apologies, Grandsire," Red Rider replied contritely, "But I'm just worried about you. For instance, what oddly sharp denta you have."

"All the better to eat you with, you hater!" The Cyberwolf snapped as he leapt from the bed and toward Red Rider.

"The Cyberwolf!" Red Rider gasped, "What have you done with my grandsire?"

"I ate him," The Cyberwolf bragged, "Also, I spoke to him first, and I see where you get your bad manners from."

The Cyberwolf then snarled and lunged for Red Rider, but she dodged just in time. She ran from the house with the Cyberwolf chasing her and nipping at her heel struts. She transformed into truck mode, but she wasn't very fast. The Cyberwolf kept up with her easily, and she feared that she would be killed for sure.

Just as all hope seemed lost, she drove past a huntsman laying out traps for scraplets. She screeched to a halt and kicked it in reverse, and the Cyberwolf had to jump out of the way to avoid being run over. She then stopped in front of the huntsman.

"Sir, please help me!" Red Rider screamed, "A Cyberwolf ate my grandsire, intends to eat me, and I'm unarmed!"

"Don't worry, miss. I'm on it," the huntsman replied heroically.

The huntsman then activated a hologram of a tree he and Red Rider could hide within. The Cyberwolf caught up quickly, but not quickly enough to find them. As the Cyberwolf stalked around for his prey, the huntsman suddenly ambushed the creature and cut it open with his axe!

The grandsire, who was still alive inside the Cyberwolf, came out and thanked the huntsman profusely. Then the huntsman, Red Rider, and the grandsire went back to his house to drink the energon Red Rider had brought for him.

Everyone that mattered lived happily ever after, and the grandsire never complained about being sick again, because after getting eaten by a Cyberwolf everything else looked kind of small.

**The End**

* * *

_Author's Notes: It's been a while since I've written one of these, but I do enjoy them. With these stories I can be as comedic or dramatic as I want, and I don't have to worry about heavy continuity since even in-universe it's all make believe. I hope you are enjoying this anthology series, and hopefully I can get to the next story soon :)_


	5. Goldbug & The Three Seekers

Our current tale is a legend from ancient Vos. No one is certain if the tale is true, but it was often a story told to sparklings before the war, and is one that is welcomed now that the war is over. After last orn's debacle, we have decided to hire more..._professional_ actors. We are pleased to welcome Starscream back to the stage, as well as seasoned favorites Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Bumblebee. We would like to thank **Guest **for their second generous donation and suggestion, as well as our secondary sponsor: The Iacon Institute of Cultural Studies. We are also proud to introduce our outdoor theatre addition to take full advantage of the seekers' flight capabilities. Enjoy the show :)

* * *

Chapter 4

Goldbug and The Three Seekers

_(Goldilocks and The Three Bears)_

_Goldbug: Bumblebee_

_Air Commander: Starscream_

_Right Wing: Thundercracker_

_Left Wing: Skywarp_

A long time ago, there lived a tiny shiny minibot who went by the name of Goldbug, both because of his golden paint and because he was as cute as a bug. Goldbug lived in the town of Protohex, and was often warned by his parents to never stray into the city of Vos. Vos was a land in the sky and inhabited by vicious seekers; military-built Cybertronians with incredible power, and incredible tempers.

Goldbug was a curious mechling however, and playing in the road in Protohex had gotten boring. It was the same thing every orn. The same purple energon, the same car-formers, and the same straight roads. Goldbug wanted an adventure, and he wanted something else to refuel with besides purple energon.

One orn Goldbug decided to stray from the path his parents insisted upon, and he drove far away from the city. He knew of only one place more exciting than Protohex yet still within driving distance for one as small as himself.

He drove to Vos, but when he actually got close to the city there was a problem. The road simply...ended. No city in the sky, no car-formers, nothing. It was just a pathless stretch of rocks where a city and a road should have been. Goldbug was too stubborn to give up on his adventure however, so he kept driving along the expanse despite how it hurt his tires and undercarriage. He was sure he was ready for anything.

* * *

Meanwhile in a cottage on the Great Cliff of Vos there lived a seeker trine. There was the air commander, his right wing, and his left wing. They were a happy if slightly dysfunctional unit, and they were at that moment sitting down to their breakfast of warm refined energon.

"Blue energon _again_?" The left wing whined, "Every day it's the same energon! Why can't we have something else to eat?"

"You could always eat my dust," Air Commander quipped sourly, "I slaved over a hot refiner all orn, and this is the thanks I get!? I don't know why I let you join this trine!"

"Because I can teleport?" Left Wing guessed.

"_Err_! Right Wing! Why aren't you eating?" Air Commander demanded to know.

"You left the refiner on for too long, and now my energon is too hot," Right Wing complained.

"You two are such ungrateful slaggers!" Air Commander shouted in frustration.

"Hey, hey! No need to be so glum, Commander," Left Wing said placatingly, "Maybe we could go flying for a while, and when we get back the energon will be cooler. What do you say?"

"I say if we race you'll cheat," Air Commander grumbled, "You and your stupid teleporting."

"We don't always have to race," Right Wing pointed out.

"Yes we do! That's the fun part!" Left Wing protested, "_Please_?"

"Very well. One casual race, but only if Left Wing doesn't teleport," Air Commander acquiesced.

"Yay! Last one there's a ground pounder!" Left Wing shouted as he excitedly ran out the door.

The other two seekers followed suit, turning into jet mode and flying away from their house on the cliff. The air was crisp, and the weather was perfect for their excursion to the greater city of Vos.

* * *

Goldbug had been driving for joors and his tires were exhausted and worn down. He had seen nothing but rocks and metal shards as he drove along toward the unknown horizon. He was sure that he was lost, and he would never make it home to his family again. If only he hadn't driven so far away.

Unable to drive any longer, Goldbug transformed back into robot mode and began to walk, which was even slower than driving. There was nothing around except for a cliff, so Goldbug started walking up the natural protrusion in Cybertron's crust. He only hoped that by climbing this rock facing he would be able to spot Protohex and thus return home.

A sound went off in the distance, and Goldbug flinched before realizing it was only a glitch mouse. He had heard tales of the seekers. They were violent mechs that would kill anything in their territory that wasn't one of them. They were very paranoid against grounders, and Goldbug was very obviously a grounder. Goldbug only hoped that he wouldn't encounter a trine of these brutal warriors during his travels.

After what seemed like an eternity, Goldbug made it halfway up the cliff. He was tired, and feared he would fall from the structure and snap his neck cables, but he had to keep going. As he climbed up to the nearest ledge however, he saw a most welcome sight.

It was a cottage! Gleaming and inviting in this harsh landscape, Goldbug entered the building with little thought to what he might find once inside. The door was unlocked, so he was certain whoever lived there must be friendly.

The first thing Goldbug noticed when he entered the home was the wonderful smell of warm energon. Goldbug followed his olfactory sensors to the kitchen, and there he saw three chairs with three cubes of blue energon in front of them on the table. This was very tempting to the little car-former, since Protohex only had purple energon. A smarter mech would know that three chairs equals a trine, but Goldbug was young and sheltered from the world outside his home city-state.

He tried the first cube of energon, but it was too hot. He burned his glossa and cried out in pain, but no one showed up to help him. He figured no one was home, and vaguely wondered why the homeowners would leave perfectly good energon behind.

Dismissing these thoughts, Goldbug tried the second cube of energon. Unfortunately this one had not been refined properly and was too cold. Goldbug spit out the listless energon, and went to the third chair to sit. The third cube of energon was _just_ right, so Goldbug drank it down greedily.

Once he was full of energon, the yellow minibot wanted to sit down and watch a broadcast. He went into the living room, where there were three chairs. The one on the right side was too hard, the one in the middle was too big, but the one on the left was _just_ right. It also had a cube holder, which was very convenient since Goldbug had two more cubes of energon he could drink.

Goldbug enjoyed watching the broadcast screen, because it had all sorts of channels that he didn't get at home. He watched a seeker cooking show, a seeker sports game, and a seeker game show. Well, he thought it was a game show anyway. It was about an air commander finding a trine. It seemed like a very personal thing for a game show to decide, but to be fair Goldbug wasn't exactly sure how seeker culture worked.

Goldbug was starting to get very tired. He had driven, walked, and climbed a long way. He felt like he just needed to rest, and surely the occupants of the house wouldn't mind.

He went up the ramp to the second floor of the house, where the berthroom was located. There were three berths to choose from.

Goldbug first tried the right bed, but it was too hard. Then he tried the middle bed, but the electric current running through it was too strong. Then he tried the left bed. It smelled funny, but beggars can't be choosers, so Goldbug went into recharge anyway.

* * *

The race had turned into ten races among the competitive seeker trine, and they didn't return to their cottage until it was almost dark. Everyone was tired and cranky, most of all the air commander.

"I specifically told you not to cheat!" Air Commander screeched at Left Wing, "Why can't you ever listen to me?"

"Oh, nag nag nag!" Left Wing replied snidely, "You're just sore because you lost."

"He's sore because you teleported into a machine parts factory," Right Wing pointed out, "We'll be lucky if we don't get sued."

As the seekers argued they walked into the house. They were so busy fighting amongst themselves that they didn't even notice anything was amiss until they sat back down at the dinner table and...

"Hey! My energon's gone!" Left Wing exclaimed angrily.

"Mine too," Right Wing added.

"Mine is still here," Air Commander noted, "Well, at least the thief respects authority."

"They probably just didn't want your yucky cold energon," Left Wing countered, "Hey! My chair!"

"What about it?" Right Wing asked while looking at the chairs and seeing nothing amiss.

"They messed up my aft groove!" Left Wing wailed, "The thief sat in my chair with their tiny aft and _messed up my groove_!"

"Tiny aft?" Right Wing repeated skeptically, "So, are we dealing with a thief or a sparkling?"

"Who says those concepts are mutually exclusive?" Air Commander asked slyly, "Hey look! Pede tracks on the ramp."

"Who walks up the ramp when they can fly?" Left Wing asked suspiciously.

"My guess is they can't fly," Air Commander replied, "Gentlemechs, I think we have a ground pounder in our house."

"Great! I'll get him and rip him to shards!" Left Wing announced quickly.

With a flash of purple light Left Wing teleported to the crime scene, but instead of going to the berthroom he instead ended up on the roof. His wing got caught on the windsock, and he couldn't pull himself free.

"Um, guys? A little help!" Left Wing cried out.

Both seekers facepalmed at their brother's stupidity. Not only was he a whiny brat, but he was also making them look bad with his idiocy. Air Commander was very grateful they didn't have neighbors.

Unfortunately, the seekers weren't the only ones who heard Left Wing screaming. Goldbug awoke with a start when he heard the noise, and wondered who his mysterious benefactors were. He left the berthroom to meet them, and hoped they would forgive him for intruding. Surely they wouldn't begrudge a weary traveller.

Goldbug exited the room at the same time the two remaining seekers were making their way to the door. They came face-to-face with each other immediately...well, sort of. Goldbug was so short that he was staring at the cockpits on each seeker's chassis. When he saw the incredulous look on their faceplates and the laser pistols on their arms, he knew he was fragged.

"AAHHH!" Goldbug screamed in fright.

"_The thief_!" Both seekers cried out in unison.

Goldbug tried to run past the seekers, but Air Commander's reflexes were sharp, and he grabbed the youngling by the back of his neck armor. Goldbug struggled, but it was no use against so powerful a mech.

"Please, don't hurt me! I'm sorry!" Goldbug shouted desperately, "I was just so hungry and tired, but I meant no harm! Honest!"

"What should we do with him, Air Commander?" Right Wing asked, "Should we kill him?"

Goldbug gulped in fright and shook as he awaited Air Commander's proclamation. The seekers now held his life in their servos.

"Hey Air Commander!" Left Wing suddenly shouted from the roof, "If I teleport now will the windsock come with me? Also, can we go out for energon? No offense Air Commander, but your cooking eats slag!"

Air Commander groaned at the remark and looked down at the quivering form of Goldbug. Right Wing waited for the order, ready to kill the intruder at his leader's order.

"Actually, I have a better use for this little grounder," Air Commander said with a deceptively syrupy smile.

And so it was that the Air Commander had figured out how to solve all of his problems with the help of the car-former. Left Wing was kicked out of the trine for being an ungrateful jerk, and in exchange for his life Goldbug tethered his spark to the remaining seekers in a trining ceremony.

And so it was that Vos welcomed its first ever mixed-frame trine, with two seekers and one minibot. So remember sparklings, if an opportunity shows up in your home, take it. Change is good.

**The End**

* * *

_Author's Notes: I had a few endings in mind for this story, but I ended up choosing the one that was nicest to Bumblebee. I always put that little guy through the wringer in my stories, so I gave him a break this time. LOL! Anyway, this was the last of my suggestions, so if anyone has a fairy tale suggestion for the "Fables of Cybertron" series I would be happy to hear it. Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this fic :)_


End file.
